No Secrets to be Gleaned
by ShinkonoKokoro
Summary: Merlin's a bully. But bugger all if Arthur doesn't have a little touch of Stockholm Syndrome and fancy him anyway...
1. Chapter 1

"Oi, watch it! What's the matter with you," Arthur complained as he staggered sideways from sharp corners to his shoulder. Any other words froze in his mouth at the ice blue glare from the offender.

"Watch yourself, _mate_," Merlin Ambruss sneered.

"Geeze, sorry," Arthur muttered. "Just be careful, yeah? Don't go around unnecessarily running in to blokes." He dropped his eyes, willing his mouth to shut up.

"Watch who you're talking to, Pendragon. It might get you in trouble." He turned on a heel and walked off.

"God, what was _that_," Gwen asked as she rushed over.

Arthur finally felt like there was enough air to breathe. "I dunno. Geeze, he's terrifying."

Gwen murmured comforting words as Merlin's thin back made its way through the parting crowd. Turning back to his locker, he scowled. He was on the rugby team as well as student government, but that didn't stop him from being terrified or feeling like Ambruss owned half the school. He wasn't your typical bully. If that was even an appropriate term. Arthur thought maybe warlord suited better.

The boy was tall. Looked like he hardly ate, and Arthur would have said homeless except for the name brand trousers that probably incited the temper because they were so tight. His dark brown mop of hair hung low over his eyes, intimidating. Until one actually noticed his eyes. And everyone did. His eyes balanced above sharp cheek bones, intense blue, calculating and hidden. There were no secrets to be gleaned from those eyes. They never smiled or showed anything Merlin didn't want them to. They seemed to bore right through you and know all your secrets. Pin you where you stand. Make you want to spill all your secrets. Shrink back until you were smaller than your five-year-old self. Hide until you thought he couldn't see you any more.

"Arthur?"

He blinked. "Sorry, Gwen. Just... Just thinking."

"Right. Well let's get to class, yeah?"

"Sure." He smiled. "Let's go."

* * *

Arthur manages to avoid Merlin for the rest of the week, unfortunately running right into him around a corner the following Monday. Today just wasn't his day.

"Didn't I tell you to stay out of my way, Pendgragon?" Merlin hisses, eyes cold and dangerous.

"Trust me," Arthur muttered as he knelt to pick up his dropped spirals, "I've been doing my best."

Merlin's hand snaked out and pushed him backwards. "Don't mouth off to me."

"Don't mouth off to _me_, mate!" Arthur growled, swatting at Merlin's hand and pushing back.

Merlin's lips twisted into something that might have been a smile on another person. "Are you _sure_ you want to be starting this fight?" He asked, voice quiet.

Arthur was sure that was probably a warning, but right now, he didn't seem to care. He dove at Merlin's waist, taking the boy down to the hard tile, both of them grunting as they started to scuffle.

"Oh God!" He heard Gwen cry and then shout for Lance.

Arthur figured he should stop worrying about others when Merlin somehow managed to get on top of him, slamming him down. He saw stars as his head cracked against the floor. Shouts rose up around them and it probably meant that teachers would be running in at any moment.

"You are so dead, Pendragon," Merlin hissed next to his ear, pulling his hair back, biting down _hard _on the junction of his neck and shoulder.

"Fuck! Get off!" he yelped, twisting under Merlin.

Merlin merely rolled with the weight, flowing to his feet, arms loose by his sides.

Arthur growled and jabbed in with a punch, his fist easily going by the side of Merlin's face and finding himself looking at the ceiling. With no air to breathe. He clawed at his chest, strangled noises coming from his mouth as he tried to suck in air, eyes watering.

"Arthur!" Lance fell to his knees next to Arthur, helping him sit.

Not helping his pride, however. The air came back, but by this time, the teachers were ordering people to their classes and chastising Merlin. And Arthur. Though Arthur bore the brunt of it. While Merlin just smirked. He gave Arthur a two-fingered salute and then sauntered away in the middle of his half of the lecture.

* * *

Arthur shut up about bemoaning his detention. Gwen had no sympathy and, after hearing the whole story, Lance didn't either. Instead, he glowered through the rest of the day, played hard in rugby, and tried to figure out how the deuce Merlin had gotten the better of him. He knew he was no weakling in fights. He could take men down easily. He served his duty, careful not to complain to Gwen or Lance. Gwaine, his mate on the rugby team, however, was fair game. And entirely on his side. Which made things better. Gwaine joked about him being taken down by a slip of a man, teasing him horribly, but admitting that Merlin scared the piss out of him and he would rather punch himself in the balls than be alone in the same room as him.

"You certainly do have the flair for imagery, Gwaine."

"Right mate!" And then he clapped him on the shoulder and played rough in the game.

After the game was over, Arthur treated himself to a long shower. The rest of the team was going out for drinks, and Arthur should meet them there, was the consensus. He hummed agreement and then went back to basking in the hot water. Dressing quickly, he set out to meet his friends. With his luck, of course, as he turned the corner, Merlin and some shady-looking characters were loitering against a wall. Between him and the pub.

"Pendragon!" he called cheerfully. "You've been avoiding me again."

Arthur's feet refused to move. And, he thought shamefully, his mobile was in his bag. So instead, he called, "Merlin. Hullo. What can I help you with today?"

He sauntered towards Arthur. "I thought I'd introduce you to a couple of my friends."

"You know what," Arthur said, beginning to sweat, "I really don't have time today. Lovely of you to offer, but I have my own mates to meet."

"Surely they can wait." Merlin clapped a hand on his shoulder, propelling him forward towards the mix of rather derelict teens. There was a sullen-looking boy with unkempt brown hair, a fierce looking blonde woman, long curls mixed with purple streaks, and another bloke with a horrible burn scar covering half his face. He was grinning and it kind of made Arthur want to cut and run.

"They've already been waiting, you see..."

"Allow me to introduce Will, Morgause, and Edwin."

"Cheers. Cheers. Nice to meet you. Now, _really_, I must be going." He tried to move forward, but Merlin's bruising grip on his wrist gave him a short leash.

"You know, Arthur—I can call you Arthur, can't I? Of course. Arthur, this is quite a fine shirt you've got. I'm sure Edwin would love it round his shoulders."

"Oh yeah. I bet it'll fit me perfectly!"  
"Arthur, why don't you be a chap and give it to him."

Seething inwardly but showing a smile, he shrugged out of his jacket and pulled this shirt off and handed it to Edwin. "Enjoy it."

"Oh, I will." He pulled it over his head, lifting the collar and _inhaled_.

"And this jacket..." Merlin tsked. "I really bet Morgause would look stunning in a piece like this. Don't you think?"

Arthur had just slung it round his shoulders.

"Don't you think?" Merlin's fingers pinched the back of his hand.

"Of course," he grit and shrugged it over to her.

She bared her teeth in what was probably a smile in her mind and tucked it over her arm.

"What do I get, Merlin?" Will drawled.

"You can have his trainers."

"What do you get, Merlin?" Edwin rasped.

"Me...?" He turned to Arthur with a speculative gleam in his eye. "What will you give me, Arthur?"

"What do you want?" Arthur replied tiredly, kicking his comfortable trainers to Will, the pavement cold beneath his now bare feet.

A smile curved his lips, rather terrifying. "Your pants."

"My _what_!"

"Give me your pants."

Arthur flushed. "No! I'm not going to... I'm already half-naked! That's—This is embarrassing!"

Merlin spun him and pushed him up against the wall. "And what, dear boy, did you think was the _point_?"

Arthur ground his teeth, shaking hands undoing his belt and unzipping his trousers before shoving them down and pushing his pants down and kicking them off before yanking his trousers back up. Not before Edwin gave a lecherous whistle. And Merlin grinned widely.

"Not too bad, Pendragon. Nicely hung. Whoops. I meant 'nicely done.'"

Arthur felt hi face burn and ducked his head. "Perv."

"Thanks for these," Merlin twirls his pants around a long finger, his cronies, for lack of a better term, snickering. He leans in close to Arthur, forcing him back against the wall again. "Perhaps it's time for you to find your friends. Just be sure you're not crying when you do."

His fists trembling at his side, Arthur kept his face carefully blank.

Merlin gave him a final shove and then stepped back, laughing. "You're so easy, Pendragon."

"You've got what you want," he said tightly.

Merlin gave him a pitying glance and then swaggered down the street, the threesome following him with varied degrees of disgust in his direction as they passed.

Arthur bent down to open his bag and pull out a dirty shirt to pull over his head.

"Whoo! Arthur is that you?" Gwen exclaimed as he sat down next to her.

"Yes."

"And here I thought you were late because you had to shower!" She looked over at him. "Something wrong?"

"Nope. Everything's fine."

"What happened to your jacket? It's cold out, Arthur! Really, you should take better ca—"

"Fine, Gwen. It's fine."

Lance sent him a questioning glance, but Arthur just ordered a drink and proceeded to get very very drunk, ignoring the way his trousers chafed against his bare skin.

He was reprimanded for his trainer-less feet. But really, he insisted with a bright smile, it was _no_ bother.

"He's planning revenge," Lance muttered to her.

"God, school's going to be a warzone."

* * *

Two weeks later and Arthur hadn't seen any sign of the three other 'friends' of Merlin at school, leading him to conclude that they didn't go there and he had no friends at their school. There were a few minor altercations of Merlin tripping Arthur, slamming his locker on his hands, and writing in his books. So Arthur seethed.

After school that Friday, he followed Merlin. At least to the school gates because Merlin noticed him rather easily.

"Want something, Pendragon."

"Yeah," he called with more bravado than he felt. "I want to know what it is you have against me."

"Nothing in particular." The boy's blue eyes don't tell him anything.

"Nothing. So it's... just for fun."

"Yes."

Arthur couldn't help but feel a bit stunned, then blurted, "You're twisted."

"I'm what I am," he countered.

"You're bloody mad."

Merlin just smiled, stepping closer. His hand flew out, cracking against Arthur's cheek. A slap. "Later, darling."

Not a punch. A slap. Derisive. Condescending. The insult curls around Arthur's insides like fire. A slap.

"Arthur! Arthur!" Gwaine ran over and grabbed his shoulder before he could lurch after Merlin.

"God, I hate him," he breathed, hardly able to believe the strength of the emotion. "He's...he's _awful_, Gwaine. He's the bitterest most horrible person I've ever had the pleasure of knowing. I want to _hit_ him, Gwaine. I want to shove him over and hit him like he's another rugby player."

"And he'll probably tip you over like a man would a little girl," Gwaine said cheerfully, giving his shoulder a squeeze.

"That doesn't make me feel better," Arthur grumbled. He took a deep breath and followed Gwaine's tug.

* * *

The pattern went on in a passive, intrusive way. Merlin putting him down. Merlin slapping him. Merlin tripping him. Merlin bumping him in the hall. Merlin sneering at him. Merlin making obscene gestures at him.

He let out a strangled scream, tearing at his hair as he snuck into the empty room that he, Gwen, Lance, and occasionally Gwaine and Kay.

"You alright, honey?"

"Gwen! This is _not_ funny." He slammed his books down on the floor and threw himself into a chair.

Lance and Kay laughed. "This bloke must really have something against you, Art."

"Shuttit, Kay. And never call me that again."

"Think your face'll freeze like that, mate," Gwaine said, slipping into the room.

"Why does no one help me!"

"You think any of _us_ wants to attract the attention of _Merlin_?" Lance said. "Not that we don't love you, mate, but we're not really willing to get our arses handed to us if we intervene for you."

"Thanks. Great lot you are," Arthur grumbled bitterly.

"Seriously, Arthur, maybe you should think about transferring."

"That's not a joke. It's actually serious," Arthur moaned, dragging the heels of his hands across his face. "I need... God. I need a bodyguard. Maybe I can just play sick for the rest of the semester. Anyone have mono? I'd kiss someone just to get mono."

"You really are desperate," Lance drawled. "It's a bit pathetic mate."

"Just talk to him!"

Arthur rounded on Kay. "You think I haven't tried that!"

Kay shrugged and Arthur shook his head. "I have to piss."

"Classy, Arthur," Gwen reprimanded as he slipped out of the room.

"Pendragon!" Merlin's voice held all sorts of painful promises.

He turned, proud that he hadn't cringed. "Merlin. What do you want? Though I feel like I've asked that question before, and you never quite answer."

Merlin's blues went wide with false innocence (however convincing it might be, had Arthur not known better), and he leaned forward with a _kind_ hand on Arthur's forearm. "I don't want _anything_." Then he laughed and brushed passed him.

Arthur just gaped and tried to suppress the scream of frustration, heading to the loo, screaming into his shirt. The person in the stall next to him flailed emphatically and it made Arthur feel a little bit better.

* * *

The next day, however, he was horribly dismayed to discover that Merlin had transferred into his history class.

"Shit, no..."

But Merlin smiled widely at him and the rest of the class ignored him for the rest of the hour. Merlin had effectively painted a target on him, and no one else, despite Arthur's popularity, wanted to be caught in the collateral damage. Merlin sauntered towards him, booting the kid next to him out of the seat and claiming it for his own.

Arthur wanted to tear at his hair.

* * *

The next week effectively passed the same way. Arthur tormented by Merlin's mere presence. Merlin's presence constantly promising pain, humiliation, and much losing despite Arthur's superior build, endurance, and sport ability. It was frustrating and awful. Especially when Merlin kept cornering him in the loo.

"What do you _want_?"

"Always the same question, Arthur," Merlin purred. "Can't you be more original?"

Trying to ease the pressure on his twisted arm, Arthur rolled his eyes. "Do you have some sort of crush on me? And this is the only way you can tell me?" His arm was suddenly free and he was shoved away.

"What are you on about? I don't like blokes." Merlin's eyes narrowed.

"Really?"

"Oh don't sound so surprised, Pendragon."

"Sorry," Arthur shrugged. "I guess... I guess I just stereotyped is all. What with how you look."

Pushing him up against the wall roughly, Merlin hissed, "And what's wrong with the way I look?"

"Do you really want me to—Sorry! Sorry! Ease off, mate! You look the part is all..."

The sweet smile Merlin gave him made him shiver. "And what would you know?"

"Call it gay-dar?" He offered weakly.

Jerking back in genuine surprise, Merlin quickly covered the expression into a sneer. "So you fancy blokes?"

There really wasn't any point in lying. He'd probably find out. Arthur wouldn't be surprised if Merlin could have gotten ahold of his journal. Not that he kept one of course. That was a bit too... "I do."

"Really? Don't take the piss on me, Pendragon. You'll hurt."

"I do. Ask Gwen. Though don't you _dare_ hassle her, you understand."

"I don't think you're in a position to be doing any sort of bargaining." Merlin gave him another rough shove and then swaggered away. "Pleasure talking to you."

When Arthur caught himself watching Merlin's hips, he slapped himself. There was _no_ way he was thinking _those _types of thoughts about Merlin Ambruss.

* * *

However, once he'd realised the fact that Merlin had skinny little hips, high cheekbones, gorgeous blues, and rather full lips, he couldn't exactly _un_see. Or be subtle about the fact that he was looking.

"Arthur... You're not..._oggling_ Merlin Ambruss. Are you?" Gwen asked, looking at him like he was touched in the head.

"God no. No no. I most definitely am not."

"Methinks the lad doth protest too much!" Gwaine called out as he passed by the two of them during lunch.

"Shut up, Gwaine!"

"Arthur," Gwen breathed.

He made the mistake of meeting her gaze. Then crumpled onto the table. "Oh God! Gwen! You've got to... to _kill_ me or something! I'm developing Stockholm Syndrome!"

"Arthur!"

"It's _true_! He's...he's _attractive_! Even if he is a bloody arse!" He gripped Gwen's hands. "You've got to...snap me out of it or something."

"Arthur, there is _no_ way that you can possibly fancy Ambruss. He's been nothing but a prick to you, hassling you, making your life miserable, and driving you nutters. Keep away and don't even look at him. Understand?" Her firm tones calmed him somewhat.

"I know. I know. I _know_. God, what's _wrong_ with me!"

At least Gwen's laughter was distracting. "Calm _down_, Arthur. You're fine. You're not throwing yourself at him. And I will admit, he's quite...lovely to look at."

"Yet, Gwen. I'm not throwing myself at him _yet_."

"Don't look so upset."

"Why's Arthur upset?" Lance asked as he joined them.

"Lance! I need you to tie me up in my room and—"

"Whoa... I knew you liked blokes, Arthur, but I don't...go that way. Remember?"

Arthur rolled his eyes. "It's for self protection."

"Against what?"

"Me. And my..." Arthur leaned in close to whisper. "Stockholm Syndrome."

"What on earth is that?" Lance frowned.

"When someone is captured and he or she falls in love with the person who's bound them up."

"God, Arthur, that's sick."

"I know," Arthur moaned, pulling at his hair. "It's _awful_." He lifted his head to meet Lance's eyes. "At least I only find him attractive. But you _must_ tie me up before I do further harm to both my mental facilities and my social standing."

"I don't think the latter is something you have to worry about. Everyone already avoids you, Arthur," Gwen teased.

Lance laughed. "Poor Arthur."

"Right, you lot, that's enough." Arthur stood, gathering his books and things. "Now if you don't mind, I've got to get going."

"To be tortured?" Gwen snickered.

He gave her a glare and then left.

* * *

Hiding himself in the library, Arthur tore at his hair some more, trying to figure a way to reconcile all of this. Merlin hated him. He rather fancied Merlin. But Merlin hated him. He didn't even know if Merlin liked men, but he thought he might. Call it a hunch, what have you, but Merlin was denying himself. Arthur ignored the part where he was actually wishing it true.

He slunk over to a computer, bypassing the security to the school records. There.

_Merlin Ambruss_

_ Mother: Hunith Ambruss_

_ Father: N/A_

_ Home Address: 96 Clark Lane_

Home number, mobile number, et cetera, et cetera. Nothing really of interest. Arthur chewed at a hang-nail. Nothing that told him about _Merlin_.

He rode past Merlin's home over the weekend, learning still nothing.

Monday came and Arthur let himself be visible instead of skulking to avoid Merlin.

"Do you have a death-wish?" Gwen asked, sliding into the desk next to him.

"Gwen! Good morning. Lovely to see you. How was your weekend."

Gwen rolled her eyes but smiled anyway. "Don't you look like the cat who caught the canary."

"Not really. Nothing's been caught."

"Oh? What's this all about then?"

"You know. You catch more flies with honey than vinegar."

"As much as I enjoy colloquialisms, Arthur, I have _no_ idea what you're getting at."

"I'm going to become friends with Merlin," he announced proudly, though quietly.

"God, maybe I should call the mental hospital. You're nutters! He'll skewer you! He'll... He'll _kill_ you, Arthur!"

"Maybe he's just hurt inside and needs some love."

Gwen dropped her head into her hands. "That sounds _so_ wrong, Arthur." She reached across the aisle and patted his shoulder. "I'll come to your funeral. I'll give a lovely speech too."

Arthur laughed. "Thanks for your vote of confidence." But then class started and there was no more talking for fear of consequences.

"So now what?" Gwen asked by his shoulder as they headed into the hallway.

Arthur shrugged. "Kill him with kindness."

"Who's killing what now?" Lance asked, slipping an arm around Gwen's waist.

Arthur just smiled and sauntered off down the hall where he knew he would run into Merlin.

"Pendragon!" Merlin called over the hallway noise like was greeting an old friend.

"Merlin." Arthur just smiled back and waved.

Merlin's eyebrows shot up and Arthur felt a little accomplished at bringing the expression unbidden. "What are you doing?"

"Greeting you."

"Thanks, pissant." Merlin rolled his eyes. "What's your game?"

"Just being friendly."

Merlin took a step back. "Don't think you can get me on your gay train."

Arthur smiled again. "Not trying to. Though it'd make life a lot more stressful if you didn't have to hassle me and I didn't have to worry about being hassled by you."

With narrowed eyes, Merlin stepped forward, encroaching on Arthur's personal space. "Don't think that you'll ever soften me, Pendragon."

* * *

The same argument happened, again and again, Arthur ending up with bruises on his arms, his shoulders, his face (when Merlin out-right slapped him), his ankles, his shins, his ribs.

They were outside of the school when Arthur finally blurted, "What did I ever do to you to make you hate me!"

Merlin's face screwed up into something uncomfortably like real emotion—all fiercely anger and hurt and outrage. In any other situation, it would have been terribly attractive. "What did you _do_?"

"Yeah!" Arthur shouted back. "What did I _do_ to make you hate me. What did I _do_ that you feel you have to put me down at _every_ turn and make _my _life miserable."

"Ha! A miserable life? What do you even know about misery, Arthur Pendragon!" Merlin's thin arms snaked out and shoved Arthur so that he stumbled. He shoved him again and Arthur fell. "My life's sodding _hell_ because of your father!"

"What does he even have to _do_ with this?" Arthur replied, starting to get to his feet.

Merlin only shoved him back down again and kicked his thigh. "He arrested my Da! Who was bloody innocent!"

"What? I don't know anything about that! It doesn't have _anything_ to do wi—"

"Shut up!" Merlin shoved him down again, kneeing him in the chest. "Your _father_ arrested _mine_ when he was _sick_! He was _sick_, Arthur! And he went to prison, too weak to even defend himself, but your _father_," he spat the word, face twisted horribly, "he didn't even _care_! He was so caught up in thinking he arrested the 'Sarney Murder' that he didn't even stop to _listen_!"

Arthur scrabbled against Merlin, but the latter merely pushed harder on his chest, pinning his hands to the ground eventually.

"He dropped my Da in prison and didn't listen to any of the appeals or _anything_! So he died. When there was a riot. Dead."

Arthur stopped struggling. "Listen. I'm sorry about your father. It's not my fault," he said quietly.

Merlin sat back uncomfortably on Arthur's stomach and hips. "So I learned how to defend myself," he continued, sounding small and lost. "And look where it's gotten me."

"Alone."

Merlin thumped a fist on his chest making him cough. "Shut up."

Sighing, Arthur let his head fall back on the grass. "Merlin, it's not my fault, yeah? Am I like my father?"

"You like cock."

"That's not what I meant."

Merlin snorted.

"Am I like my father?"

Looking away and slumping slightly, Merlin finally admitted, "Not as near as I can tell."

"Right then. So can we see how this is all a bit silly?"

Merlin's blues flashed as his brow immediately furrowed. "There is _nothing silly_ about my—"

"Calm down! I didn't say anything about you being silly. I meant this feud against _me_. I've done nothing against you, so can you stop hating me on principle?"

Merlin waits a moment before getting off Arthur with a sigh. "I hate you forever." He gave Arthur one last weak kick and then stalked off.

Arthur pulled himself to his feet and couldn't help a little smug grin for himself.


	2. Chapter 2

The weekend was over, giving Arthur a lot of time to think. Merlin hated him. But he realised that Arthur was nothing like his father. So in order to make Merlin think better of him, he just had to cement that thought—that Arthur was nothing like his father. So he read up on Merlin's dad's case. It was hard at first, but then he got onto his dad's computer and looked up the case files. Merlin had his mum's last name: Ambruss. And his father was Berty Emrys. Berty Emrys who had died in a prison riot because he was sick and couldn't defend himself.

Arthur chewed his lip, looking over the evidence.

His father was not wrong. But neither was he right. Berty was the most logical choice as a suspect. But he didn't have motive. It would have been random killings. Also, his MO didn't match the Sarney Murders. Berty was not the killer. He was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. And living alone, being a hermit had certainly harmed not helped his case.

"My dad was wrong, you know," Arthur said as Merlin sat down next to him in history.

"What?"

"My dad was wrong. About your dad."

Merlin glared at him. "No one asked you."

"Not directly. But I could tell that you were still really upset about the fact that your father was viewed as a criminal."

"Shut up about my da!"

"Is there a problem, Mr. Ambruss?"

Merlin's face coloured and he returned to his open book. "No, Ma'am."

"Good, then please read the next paragraph?"

"Sixth paragraph, page 178," Arthur whispered with a smile.

There was another glare and Arthur settled back into his seat to wait until the end of class.

"So," Arthur prefaced. "Want to skip next period and get a coffee?"

Merlin's brows shot up. "You've got to be kidding me."

"I'm not taking the piss, I promise."

"You're mental if you think I would willingly spend time with you."

"No wait. Seriously," Arthur grabbed his arm.

"Mate, you _really_ don't want to be touching me," Merlin growled, low, shaking his arms off.

"Sorry, sorry. No offense, you know." Arthur smiled and took a step back. "Next time then."

"There won't be a next time," Merlin muttered and stalked off.

"That went well, I can see," Gwen drawled as she walked up beside Arthur.

"Gwen!"

"Arthur... I'm not sure this is such a good idea."

"Telling him'll do no good, Gwen," Lance added with a laugh. "You know how stubborn he is."

"You two are _not _helping."

"Arthur, maybe you really do need to be restrained," Lance said.

Rolling his eyes, Arthur sighed. "You two need to learn to have more faith in me. Honestly. I can make this work."

"This is one of your crazier ideas though," Gwen said, patting his arm.

"Fine fine. I see how it is. Oh ye of little faith. There's always after school."

* * *

After school didn't fare any better. Merlin slapped him again.

The next day was much of the same.

Arthur spoke to his father about the case on Wednesday.

"I just think that, even to clear his name, father, that it might be a good idea to take a second look at the case. There was no motive for—"

"Arthur! I am _not_ having this discussion with you."

"But you have to admit that I'm right."

"You are _not_ right."

"But I don't think he was guilty."

"What does it matter, Arthur? The man is already dead. It won't do any good to him to clear his name at this point."

"But it _would _matter. It would matter to his family!"

"Arthur! He's dead. There are other cases I need to be working on. That one is cold and a waste of time."

"Father—"

"_Enough_. Arthur. I am busy. Please leave me to my work in peace."

Arthur stalked out of the room, stalking down Merlin first thing the next morning.

"I'm sorry."

"For what. For stalking me? For harassing me? For annoying me? For showing your ugly face to me? For—"

"About your father."

Merlin's arrogant demeanour fizzled. "We're not talking about it."

"My father won't listen."

"Of _course_ your father won't _listen_. Shit, Arthur. Your father's an arse and an arrogant prick."

"H-hey! That's _my_ father, you know."

"But you know it's true. And don't you think we tried speaking to him?"

"Well..." Arthur dropped his gaze. "Well, yes. But—"

"Exactly. Now we're done."

"No, no! Wait. I mean, I talked to him myself. Because I know you're right. And it... I just wanted to say I'm sorry because he wouldn't listen."

"I'm not going to say I told you—wait, you... you spoke to your father about my da's case?"

"Well... Yes."

"Why... I mean. What for?"

"To clear his name. Even if it is post-humously."

Merlin screwed up his face. "Why would you... Why would you? For me?"

Arthur gave the other his most winning smile. "Yeah!"

"You're crazy, mate."

"Why. It's just..." Arthur shrugged. "I dunno. It seemed fair."

"Arthur." Merlin shook his head. "Arthur. You make no sense."

Arthur shrugged. "This is a bit awkward. Really. It's not a big deal. I agree that my father can be a prick sometimes. So I'm sorry."

Merlin's eyes shuttered again, and he turned on his heel and walked away.

* * *

By the time Friday rolled around, Arthur still hadn't made any progress. But with his father out of town at a convention, a party seemed like the perfect cliché opportunity for Arthur to get Merlin drunk and kiss him until he agreed to go out with him.

"Arthur, that's a terrible idea."

"It is not, Gwen!"

"It is, mate. It really is," Lance agreed, dumping his bag on the lunch table.

"So are you coming?"

"To what?" Gwaine asked.

"I'm having a party—"

"So he can get Merlin drunk and snog him," Lance interrupted.

"Sounds great, Arth, I'm in." Gwaine frowned. "Arth. No. That's not happening again. Sorry."

"Sorry is right. That's a _terrible_ nickname," Arthur said, glaring at him. "But are you coming?"

"Course I'm coming. I've got to see this crash and burn."

Arthur reached over, punching Gwaine in the arm. "Who's to say that it _will_?"

"Arthur. It's you. There's no way that this isn't going to fall apart spectacularly."

"Thanks. Thanks for your vote of confidence, _Gwaine_. Like you've any authority to speak on the wonders of relationships. How many women have you dated in the past month?"

Gwaine turned his nose up. "One. I'll have you know."

"Oh really?" Gwen perked up. "Who's this then?"

Gwaine coloured. "I... I can't tell."

"Can't tell?" Arthur scoffed. "What's this now? You can tell us."

"Actually... I can't." He folded his arms. "Now when's this party, Pendragon."

"You're dodging the question, Gwaine. We _will_ find out. But the party is this Saturday. 8:00," Arthur said before he turned to Lance and Gwen. "You're coming, right?"

"Wouldn't miss it, Arthur!"

"I'll be there," Gwen smiled.

"Excellent. I shall expect a good time to be had by all."

"Well I have to go. Class, you know. Responsibilities."

"Course you do, Gwen," Lance laughed. "Lead chair of the band. Madam Student Council."

Sticking her tongue out, Gwen sniffed. "Someone's got to do it, you know." She gave them a wave and then walked out of the room.

* * *

The party idea, it turned out, worked spectacularly. Everyone flailed to the base and got drunk on the punch Arthur not-so-subtly spiked and then subtly spiked again. Gwen crawled on top of Lance and spent most of the evening there, Gwaine flitting from group to group like the social butterfly he was. Merlin slunk in the door and Arthur made sure his punch was especially strong and that he'd had several cups of it before he cornered him in the shadows of the front hall and kissed him.

Merlin scrabbled fantastically against him at first, but when Arthur's fingers curled into his hair, he pulled Arthur close and surged into Arthur's lips.

It was really all brilliant. The tension, the hot skin, the biting, the exploring hands.

Then Merlin shoved him back. He glared at Arthur. "I'm not homo."

"Fine."

Merlin didn't seem to know quite what to do with that reply.

"Want to have sex?"

He looked around. Then at Arthur. Then back around the empty hallway. Then back at Arthur. Finally, he nodded in what he probably thought looked like a careless manner. It just looked like a twitch. "Fine."

Arthur smiled and took his hand, leading him up the stairs to his bedroom. Merlin balked a little at Arthur's door and then pushed past him to open it himself. Before he could make any comment about his room—all red and plush, masculine but posh—Arthur kissed him and backed him up towards his bed. They fell, Merlin's breath gusting across Arthur's face as Arthur landed on his chest.

"I don't..." Merlin said between kisses, "..know how this...works..."

"You can do me," Arthur said as he kissed along Merlin's long neck. "If you think the other will make you any less of a man."

"Yeah? Lookit you then," Merlin replied, arching under Arthur's touch.

"I'm not a woman." Arthur's fingers pulled Merlin's top off and then divested his own, his fingers teasing the skin beneath Merlin's waistband.

"No, just a tease, apparently," Merlin gasped, scrabbling at Arthur's back. "I wouldn't be doing this... if I weren't drunk... you know..."

This shouldn't have hurt, seeing as this was Arthur's entire purpose of the party. But he would admit to it being a little painful. "I know."

"Even if you are pretty," Merlin grunted as he pushed at Arthur's pants. His expression shifted to frustration as they resolutely stayed where they were due to Arthur's belt, eliciting a laugh from the other man. "If your trousers aren't off, Pendragon, I'm not going to fuck you...!"

That was just the right incentive for Arthur to slither out of his trousers and pants and from there on it turned into something warm, blissful, and hazy, Merlin grunting and caressing, much more of the attentive lover than Arthur would have thought, given his demeanour.

He wasn't really too surprised then, the next morning, to find Merlin curled around him like a spare pillow, head nestled on Arthur's shoulder. The scent of liquor, sweat, and semen finally registered in Arthur's brain, making him grimace, but he was reluctant to move for waking Merlin. He looked... kind in sleep. He looked gentle and young and free. And it was lovely.

Then he groaned. Arthur squeezed his eyes shut, not quite knowing how Merlin will react in the morning, aware that it will probably hurt. So he feigned sleep, every sense attuned to Merlin. Merlin's reactions.

Merlin's first words were a muttered stream of curses as he rolled away from Arthur. Then proceeded to fall on the floor. These curses were not so muttered.

Arthur rolled his eyes and couldn't help but roll himself over to peer down at Merlin on the floor.

"I hate you."

Arthur pouted.

"Don't even. You prick."

"Care for a shower?"

Merlin rubbed his hip and picked himself up, unbothered by his nudity. "That would be appreciated."

"Were you planning on just walking out?"

Merlin snorted. "A 'walk of shame?' I think not."

Hope fluttered deep in Arthur's heart. "Really?"  
"That tree is close enough out your window that I could avoid it entirely."

Dropping his gaze, Arthur rolled away and gestured a hand towards his own loo. "Shower's in there. The navy towel is clean. Don't use my razor."

Merlin huffed. "Honestly."

"What?" Arthur asked without turning.

"You asked if I wanted sex, I said yes. Don't start acting like you expected a relationship out of this. And _please_ don't cry."

"I'm not going to _cry_, _Mer_lin. Don't be ridiculous," he drawled as he rolled over to face him. "Go shower. Are you hungry?"

His blue eyes wide, he blinked slowly. "Hungry?"

"Yes. As in do you ever eat? Is your stomach ever put to use?"

"I don't expect you to make me breakfast."

"Well maybe I want to," Arthur snapped.

"Fine," Merlin shrugged. "Whatever you have."

Stepping into a clean pair of boxers, Arthur hurried downstairs to scramble up some eggs, trying not to feel hurt and desperate. If Merlin didn't like him, then there wouldn't be any point. Except that didn't stop him from making the best sodding eggs ever and walking around in only his pants. The cursory glance of his house told him that Gwen was even dearer to his heart than he thought—if only he were straight—and she'd done clean-up. No doubt Lance roped into the whole mess.

He paused, his foot hovering above the first step and then shook his head, taking his steaming pan back to the kitchen and getting out two plates. "Breakfast is ready!" he shouted upstairs. Tucking into his, it was only a few minutes before Merlin sauntered down the staircase and slouched into a chair at the table.

"These are pretty mean eggs," he mumbled finally.

Again, the hope niggled in Arthur's heart and he smiled. "You're welcome."

"That wasn't a thank you."

"You could try one sometimes. Might get you a scone too."

That might have been a smothered laugh from Merlin, not that he could get the other man to admit it. "You're so absurd, you know that?"

"What part?"

"The part where you ask me to have sex with you!"

"And what does that say about you for accepting?"

"Experimentation."

"Right. Convenient." Arthur couldn't help the tart tones that crept into his voice.

Merlin shrugged. "Just being honest."

"Thanks."

"You never asked for special treatment with your offer of sex."

Flinging his eyes heavenwards, Arthur moaned, "Why didn't I fancy someone who fancied me back?"

Leaning casually on his elbow, Merlin examined Arthur. "You're really serious about this, aren't you?"

"Merlin." Arthur pinned him with his gaze. "Merlin, as you found out last night, we are brilliant together. You cannot deny it."

"I don't remember it."

"Liar," Arthur accused with just a little bit of dread.

Merlin grinned. "It's a bit hazy, but I remember some of it. You really make a lot of noise."

He flushed a little. "Maybe I just like your prick."

It was Merlin's turn to flush, and Arthur grinned at the expanse of emotion Merlin had tumbled through already this morning. Perhaps he wasn't as unaffected as he thought. "Though... in all honesty... why _do_ you fancy me?"

"Huh?"

"Why do you like me?"

Arthur opened his mouth.

"I'm honestly curious," Merlin interrupted, leaning back in the chair, blue gaze quelling all of Arthur's more irrational replies.

Arthur swallowed. "Well. I..." He looked away and took a deep breath. "I think you're rather brilliant. You're smart. You're confident. Except you're really not. And you hate that I see it, but I do. Maybe that's why you don't like me. Aside for my father. Only I love you for it, because you push through that bit. You pretend you're not, but I think that you really just want someone to see through you. To see your secrets. To love you because you're not really this hateful and spiteful person you pretend to be. You put on like clothes and take off when you're alone in your room after the sun has set. I love your eyes because they're so blue. I want to catch my fingers in your hair and watch the shadows play over your cheeks as the sun rises and sets through the window. I love the way your hair curls around your ears that are rather adorable, despite being too big for your head. But I wouldn't ever tug on them. Because that would be cruel. I want to make your lips smile always. I saw it once. A real smile, and I think they're the best in the world. You should always be smiling. But only when you mean it. I want to see you smile and your eyes twinkle because you're really happy. And loved. And treated kindly because you're brilliant."

Merlin stared at him a moment over his mostly-finished plate of eggs. Then he shoved the chair backwards as he stood, the sound harsh in the sudden quiet, and he turned to stalk out Arthur's front door, leaving him with the slam of it thudding in his heart.

"Shit." He'd bolloxed that up properly, hadn't he.

* * *

For the next two weeks, Merlin avoided Arthur like a mere glimpse of him would give him the plague. That meant that he ditched history and didn't visit any of his usual haunts and took a different route home.

At first, Gwen, Lance, and Gwaine had teased him about it. Until he punched Lance too hard and made his arm numb. He felt bad but refused to apologise. Later, they turned sympathetic. But definitely _not_ because Arthur was pining and stood suddenly with a hopeful expression on his face every time he saw a black mop of hair through the crowd. He protested each time one of his friends told him he was being pathetic. Until he stopped protesting. And just moped. But definitely not pouted.

He started when the note fluttered out of his locker at him Thursday afternoon. Picking it up, he read it, smiled, and tucked it into the breast pocket of his shirt.

* * *

Ducking his friends and avoiding Gwen at the end of Friday, Arthur loitered around the corner of the school underneath a beech that provided just enough shade from the afternoon sun.

Merlin skirted around the corner, glancing at him, and then shuffled over, hands shoved deep in his pockets.

Arthur smiled. "'Lo."

Merlin said nothing in response, just scowled.

"What did you want to see me about?" He leaned against the tree in careful nonchalance.

Avoiding his eyes, Merlin cleared his throat, muttering some words.

"Sorry, I didn't hear you."

He flushed and then said quite clearly, "Did you really mean everything you were saying the other day?"

"Yes."

Merlin met his eyes in surprise. "Y-you did?"

"I did," Arthur assured him, watching his usual demeanour fall apart.

"You...fancy me."

"I do."

"And this isn't...odd. Or strange. Or..."

"Or anything else, Merlin. Call me nutters, but I do fancy you." He shrugged, waiting on knife's edge to see where this was headed. "I—" He broke off, unsure what to say next.

"And everything that I've done to you in the past?"

"Water under the bridge if you're willing to accept me."

"And if not?"

"Then I'll be hurt, we'll go our separate ways, and never speak again, I expect."

Merlin frowned, digesting this.

"But if we were... If were to _start_ something."

Arthur softened. "I'd love to give it a chance, Merlin. See what we're like together. I think we can be great."

"Do you?" Merlin snapped back, a little more of his acerbic nature coming back.

"I do."

Merlin flinched.

"Do...do you want to give it a go?" Arthur asked, a little breathless. "Do you—"

"Shut _up_! Let me think a moment!" Merlin paced around in a small circle.

"Do you like me even, Merlin?"

The question made him pause and look Arthur over.

"It's a simple enough place to start. Do you like me at all?"

Surprised to see him flushing, Arthur sighed a bit when Merlin nodded. "You fight me."

"You're not _always_ right," Arthur retorted.

This brought a hesitant smile to Merlin's lips. "Perhaps not." After another moment of awkward silence, Merlin sighed. "I suppose there's another way to test this."

"Oh?"

He moved closer, edging into Arthur's personal space, wrapping a hand quickly around the back of his neck and kissing him soundly.

Arthur sighed into the kiss, eyes sliding closed, leaning back against the tree. He raised tentative hands and spread them wide across Merlin's back only to feel the other shiver slightly. Then he pulled him close, deepening the kiss.

When Merlin finally pulled back, he looked well-tousled, lips kiss-bruised and lovely.

"Well?" Arthur demanded, his voice more of a sigh.

"I think..." Merlin said slowly, "that there might be something that could work here."

Arthur's cheeks hurt with the force of his smile. "Brilliant!"

Looking slightly sheepish, Merlin rubbed the back of his neck. "Yes. Well. Let's just keep it on the down-low for now, yes?"

"If you say so." Arthur reached for Merlin, pulling his slim hips against his own and kissing him again, tongue sweeping through his mouth.

Merlin had been just standing there, but then responded suddenly, pressing hard against Arthur and taking control of the kiss. He gripped Arthur's wrists, sliding his hands up his arms to cup his face. "Well then," he said when he pulled back for air. "I see this working _very_ well."

"Y-yeah?" Arthur felt a little dazed. "That's great. Great. Brilliant."

Merlin kissed him again as if air were a commodity and then pulled back again and started walking away. "See you tomorrow, Arthur Pendragon!" he called with a wave over his shoulder.

Cursing the way his knees felt weak, Arthur groaned. This was going to unleash a whole new type of teasing and nettling that would, in all probability, drive Arthur crazier than before. He grinned again. "Nice arse, Merlin!"

With a two-fingered salute as he rounded the corner, his dark head poked back around the corner for a leering wink.

Shoving a hand into his pockets, Arthur shook his head and couldn't help but feel like he was walking a few inches above the ground. They were going to be great.


End file.
